Stay the Night
by marcasite
Summary: ...she has never been held this way before, so deep the scars would never leave...


_For rara8777 who had given me the prompt "shiver". Thanks!_

_This is a follow up to **After Tonight **which is (Mature) and can be found at my homepage. _

She would never understand him. She knows that years will go by, and he will still remain an enigma, that puzzle that she just can not solve. When he approached her the first time and asked her to have drinks, it took her completely by surprise and she hesitated, so unsure of his sincerity. Turns out she had a reason to not believe in him.

It was a few days later, she had already started to pack up for the evening, when he approached her again. House had startled her; she had assumed everyone had left for the evening. His voice had been low and she recognized the dangerous timbre layered beneath his words as he asked her to dinner again. Maybe it was this dark, vulnerable quality that prompted her to say yes. The only thing she did know was that he was not going to ask her again if she had declined. She wasn't ready for this, whatever it was, to be over.

That dinner had given her a strong sense of déjà vu, although instead of his bitter remarks about their incompatibility, she was treated instead to silence and a House that stared with earnest into his glass of scotch. She had tried to make small talk and almost, almost, wished for the sarcasm because at least she could volley with him. Anything was better than a brooding House.

Gathering her things as he paid the bill, she signed inwardly, ready to write off this date and move on, this simply wasn't going to work and she had accepted that awhile ago. She honestly didn't want to become whatever experiment he needed her to be. It was when he pulled up in front of her home that he had managed to surprise her. She had turned to thank him for the dinner when his hand shot out and stroked the side of her face. He folded her hand in his, and she watched him curiously. Before she understood his intention, he leaned forward and placed his mouth over hers, slanting to open her lips. She shivered as his tongue met hers, sliding over it, exploring her mouth. He bit lightly on the bottom lip, licked it, and then licked into her mouth. She couldn't open her eyes, she couldn't move. All she could do was open her mouth helplessly to his as his lips and tongue gave her honeyed pleasure. She heard a soft noise and had realized, dimly, that she was moaning deep in her throat. His tongue swirled deep and withdrew. His mouth lifted, settled, and then lifted again. He pulled back and gazed at her. Her eyelids felt heavy; it had taken great effort to open them. She stared at him, numbly.

"May I come in?" his voice came out low, barely a whisper.

He had been so withdrawn all evening and this kiss had hinted at something darker, deeper than he could put to words and she was ready. For him, for this.

She had told him to help himself to something to drink and headed for the bedroom. She had heard the clink of ice in the glass and knew he would meander his way into her room. House followed his own rules and was not surprised to find him sitting on her bed with his drink. She was surprised though, by the sound of glass breaking and realized that he had cut himself. Something was affecting him but when he suddenly reached up and touched her, all thoughts flew out her mind and everything narrowed in scope until it was simply her and him. He whispered her name and when he entered her he had whispered his need for her. At that moment, she understood. He didn't want to need her so much, didn't want anyone else to have her.

"What are you thinking about, Allison?"

She turned her head to study his profile. "About afterwards," she said simply.

He froze, his hands still encased around her hair. Slowly his hand lowered, resting on his stomach as he stared at the ceiling. He closed his eyes.

"Allison…"he murmured. "Don't."

"I can't help it."

He turned to catch her in his arms and kissed her fiercely, wildly. His lips crushed hers, his teeth clashed with hers as he ate at her mouth, bruising herm in a kiss of possession, not arousal.

His arms were so tight she could hardly breathe, but she didn't care because she was holding him just as tightly, her hands running madly over the muscles of his shoulders, over his neck, through his hair. He pulled back and she followed, unwilling to let the kiss end.

"After-," she waved her hand at his face. "After this, I will miss you."

And she wonders how she will manage when he leaves.


End file.
